


The Great Escape

by MerlinOnAMountain



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/M, Female Jon Snow, Incest, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:28:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22509319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MerlinOnAMountain/pseuds/MerlinOnAMountain
Summary: Robb and Joanna flee to Braavos and live a life far removed from power struggles and politics... or not.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Robb Stark
Comments: 25
Kudos: 265





	The Great Escape

JOANNA

The ship is called _'The Great Escape'_ but the only thing half decent about it is how its name perfectly coincides with they're about to do. With a patchwork sail, rotting masts and leaky trunk, the ship is unfit to ferry a lord's heir or even a lord's bastard. But he is not Robb Stark, heir to Winterfell and half the Continent anymore and she is not Joanna Snow, the single shit stain on Lord Eddard Stark's pristine honor.  
  
They are simply Jason and Iris, two young thrill seekers in love, in search of adventure in the Free Cities.  
  
The ship and its crew had served their purpose. The rickety vessel crossed the Narrow Sea as all around them Manderly galleys stopped and boarded other, more stately ships to find the lost heir to the North.

* * *

  
One of the crew inform them that the ship is about to make port. Robb and Joanna hurried out of their cabin and rushed over to the railings to catch the first glimpse of their new home.  
  
Once, the mad titan of Braavos pieces through the ocean fog in the horizon, Joanna gives Robb a smile, a real one from the heart. Fear gripped her heart for the entire length of the journey, her mind obsessing over every grisly fate that would befall her were they to be caught. If they were compromised somehow, Robb had little to worry about, with a slap on the wrist; this matter would be put behind him. But Lady Catelyn would have surely sent Joanna to the Silent Sister's for beguiling her precious firstborn if she didn’t have her beheaded first. _If only she knew that Robb was the one who pleaded, no, who begged._ _  
_  
"Look!" Robb pointed to the shores, "There be the dark violet sails Braavos is famous for."  
  
_Dark purple!_ Joanna wanted to correct him. She was always very particular about shades similar to the color of her eyes but Robb is the type to call 'magenta' just red, so she doesn't bother.  
  
"Beautiful. “Joanna breathed. It's her first time seeing so much color and vibrancy in one scene. _Bright blue skies, deep blue oceans, beaches with rich golden sand and lush green vegetation just beyond._  
  
_"Not as beautiful as you,"_ her lover retorted with a sappy grin, too infectious not to return.  
  


* * *

  
"We need to look for work." Joanna finally said one late morning, three days after they made port in Braavos, after three days spent in bliss locked inside a room in the first decent inn they could find.  
  
Robb did not heed her for he was occupied with peppering kisses on every patch of skin on her neck and dipping his fingers into her heat in a painfully languid pace while his other hand kneads her breasts gently but insistently.  
  
"Robb!" Joanna protested but only got a growl in response. In mere moments, Robb placed his cock at her entrance and stabs it in with practiced ease for the second time since daybreak. The sensation of suddenly being filled knocks her breath away. _Talking will have to wait._  
  
_"Robb."_ Joanna tried once more after they were finished. After the exertion, Robb had collapsed beside her and pulled her into a bear hug, ready to snore off. Joanna pulled away from his warmth and Robb moaned in complaint.  
  
"Robb!" Joanna said snappishly.  
  
_"What?"_  
  
"Jobs, we need to find work."  
  
Robb sat up and stretched out his neck and arms with a low groan.  
  
"We've enough coin to last us a good while," Robb said after some deliberation, "Surely, work can wait."  
  
Robb and Joanna got almost equal allowances from father and neither really ever spent any significant amount of it. But the bulk of their money came from _'permanently borrowing'_ a large pile of coin from the Winterfell treasury.  
  
"I should like to be well settled before that coin runs out." Joanna replied, "And I'd rather not use that wealth any more than necessary."  
  
"Tsk. Lady Joanna Snow." Robb clicked his tongue. "Always so honorable, so _righteous_."  
  
Joanna leveled him a scathing glare.  
  
"Alright, alright," Robb surrendered and slid off the bed to dress, "I'll ask around if people are hiring."  
  
"Any particular line of trade you're interested in?" Joanna asked since she already had a long list of things she'd like to try her hand at. In a city as prosperous as Braavos, there's a veritable plethora of professions to pick from.  
  
Robb shrugged. "Maybe some accounting work? I _do_ have some experience with keeping ledgers."  
  
"But I am better with my sums than you," Joanna giggled, " _Far better_ , in truth."  
  
"Aye, you be the maester, then." Robb laughed, "I'll look up the guardsman guild, put by Ser Rodrick's teachings to good use."

* * *

  
  
  
Joanna's first ever real work did not work out. Although she's always had a thirst for knowledge, the work of a librarian's apprentice is rather unfulfilling. The old librarian and owner of this quaint little book store asks too much of her and pays far too little. After a month, Joanna's had enough and on the day she was about to quit, a scraggy looking northerner steps into her quaint little shop.  
  
Joanna's employer walked up to greet him but the Northman made straight for Joanna. He stopped before her and looked her over with a frown.  
  
"May I... help you?"  
  
The man pulled out a golden scroll from inside his cloak. He held it forward and Joanna took it instinctively.  
  
"A favor from a friend," the northman said gruffly.  
  
Joanna's eyes narrowed in suspicion. Even in Winterfell, her friends numbered very few. And on this side of the narrow sea, she had none.  
  
"Favors are just debts masked by courtesy," Joanna said and held the golden scroll back towards the man, "And I'd rather not be indebted to anyone."  
  
The northman's grey eyes widen and Joanna spots a measure of respect in them.  
  
"Think if it as a gift then, _Joanna Stark_." the man said and left before Joanna could correct him.

“Merciful moonsingers!” the librarian exclaimed, “That is a summons to the Archives!”

* * *

Robb brought home a bottle of Arbor Red to celebrate Joanna’s employment in the Grand Archives of Braavos. Joanna made no mention of the mysterious scroll that had her hired on the spot, partly because she did not want to worry Robb but mostly because she did not understand it herself. But she wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth, mysterious as it might be and Robb was plenty happy to chalk it up to her exception skills in High Valyrian.

Robb’s work as private security for a prominent mercantile family also came with the added benefit of sizable living quarters near the family estate. The only problem about their current arrangement was the mismatch in their schedules; Joanna worked dayshifts and Robb had to go out on nightly patrols and escorts more often than not. But he had taken this night off especially for her.

After the night of revelry and lovemaking, Joanna dreamt of a child. Joanna could almost believe she was dreaming of her younger self, if not for the vibrant blue of the child’s eyes.

In the morning, Joanna does not take the moon tea.

* * *

The look on Robb’s face revealed that he already knew what Joanna had learned today.

“Did you know?” Joanna asked still.

Robb doesn’t answer; he doesn’t even meet her gaze.

“Robb,” Joanna said, confusion turning to anger, “How long? How long did you know?”

“A week,” he admitted but said no more.

“And you didn’t think to tell me?”

Robb sighed. “I didn’t want-“

“Our family is at war!” Joanna interrupted, “And you didn’t want to worry me?”

Robb looked to her with his face was morphed in anguish. “And now that you know, what will you do?” He demands.

“We should be in there.” Joanna said hotly, “Beside our father.”

Robb laughed ruefully. “The queen and her brother are no guiltier than we are, Jo. If we set foot in Westeros, it’ll be our heads.”

“We are not trying to seize the crown, Robb.”

“Do you think Stannis will make that distinction?” Robb counters, “Do you think father will shield us from his justice?”

In their frantic flight from Winterfell, neither Robb nor Joanna had truly considered the shame that they would bring upon House Stark. But now, that shame had caught up to them in Braavos. Their story had been all the rage among eastbound Westerossi travellers when they first came here. It had left their minds after some time but with the news of a civil war in a Seven Kingdoms caused by the Lannister twins, there’s bound to be some parallels drawn.

And even if Stannis triumph over the Lannisters and his brother Renly, and even if he finds it his heart to forgive Robb and Joanna, things will never go back to the way they were. Robb was already disinherited from the Stark line and the bannermen would not consent to a future liege who slept with his own sister.

“Nay, we can never go back.” Joanna said finally.

* * *

After missing her moonblood twice, Joanna finally worked up the courage to tell Robb. He hadn’t ever mentioned wanting children, especially not by his sister. The Targaryens wed brother to sister and the gods cursed them for their hubris. Moreover, Robb and Joanna were not yet wed, and if their child wasn’t mad or malformed, it would still be a bastard. Like her.

Her fears are unfounded when a huge smile breaks across Robb’s face when Joanna guides his hand over her womb.

“ _Truly_?” He asked in earnest.

She nodded with a teary smile. Robb grabbed her by the waist and swung her around until she was squealing. The he kissed her breathless.

“We must get married,” Robb said with a fond smile, his hand still cupping her cheek.

“The gods won’t have us, Robb,” Joanna replied with a sad one, “Incest is a sin in the eyes of the gods, old or new.”

“Yes, no weirwood or sept will serve,” Robb conceded, “But this is a city of ten thousand gods. At least one of them will see our love for what it is.”

* * *

They don’t have to look far at all. The Temple of the Moonsingers welcomes marriages of all kinds. Robb and Joanna could have easily been wedded because of their false identities in front of a weirwood but it just didn’t seem right to take pride in their sin and desecrate their former belief any further.

The moonsingers were originally priestesses of Jogos Nhai, a wandering, warlike tribe much like the Dothraki. But now, as the largest sect in Braavos, their belief had spread far beyond their tribe. Mass weddings are their way and thus Jason and Iris are only one among a hundred odd couples wedded in the Temple of the Moonsingers on the first day of the Unmasking.

Joanna and her new husband make merry by day, make love by night and repeat for ten days straight to commemorate the unveiling of Braavos after the fall of Valyria. In the revelry, they could almost forget that their family is fighting for their lives in faraway Riverlands but their guilt never truly leaves them.

* * *

When Joanna was six months carrying, her supervisor, the Master Archiver Borbono summoned her to his office chambers.

“You are in no condition to work, Iris,” he told her.

Joanna opened her mouth to argue but the elderly man held up a finger.

“I shall not hear a word of it,” he said sternly, “You are to stay at home and take care of yourself and your child.”

“But I need-“Joanna started but was interrupted once more.

“Do not worry about your pay, lass,” Borbono picked up a brown pouch from his table, “Here, for your babe. Be sure to hire the best care you can find in the city.

Between the two of them, Robb and Joanna made enough to live comfortably, and add to that the coin left over from Westeros and their frugal living habits, they had saved up quite a bit. What Joanna would really miss out on was the vast amount of books she was granted access to due to her work as a translator and transcriber.

“I can’t accept this!”

“But you _must_ ,” Borbono insisted, “Your child is important.”

* * *

With all the free time around the house, Joanna started noticing things, strange little occurrences that she would probably brush off as mere coincidences had she not the time the think them over. Firstly, the maids she hired to clean their quarters were all awfully cautious of anything that could harm Joanna’s unborn babe. Even in Winterfell, servants did not fuss half as much when Lady Catelyn was carrying little Rickon. Secondly, one of the hawkers on the street always seemed to be looking at Joanna and no matter which market she went to, Joanna would always see a few strangers everywhere. 

But most curious of all was the sheer amount of time Robb spent out of the house. As far as she knew, Robb’s shift was from late evening to dawn and even disregarding, the occasional off-duty summons, he was away from home far too often.

“You’ve missed lunch,” Joanna said from her seat on the table when Robb slipped in through the front door one late afternoon, “Again.”

Robb smiled guiltily, “Sorry, love.”

“Where were you?” Joanna asked, distressed.

“Oh, the red light district,” Robb replied mirthfully with a shrug.

“Don’t!” Joanna hissed, “Do not even joke about that!”

“Sweet girl,” Robb placated and held up hands as he approached and leaned close to her ear, “I shall find greater pleasure in taking myself in hand while thinking of you than with any whore’s bed.”

“Sweet words,” Joanna rolled her eyes, “But you must tell me the truth.”

Robb sighed. ”Alright then. Give me a fortnight and I’ll show you.”

* * *

“It’s no castle,” Robb said, almost nervously.

“Robb!” Joanna beamed, “It’s perfect!”

And it was, their new home. Situated on one of the outer islands, far from the hustle and bustle from portside Braavos, their manse was a one storied structure with multiple rooms, a courtyard and a backside garden as well.

“Glad you like it,” Robb said as he rested his hand on Joanna’s protruding stomach, “I hope Alysanne likes it too.”

The physicians told her that she was carrying high which meant the babe is probably a girl. Robb was ecstatic when he was told and they had decided on naming her Alysanne, if it indeed was a girl, not long after.

“This must have cost a _fortune_!” Joanna exclaimed as they toured the grounds.

“Ah! Not at all,” Robb replied immediately, “It was previously owned by a Pentoshi merchant, by the name of Irriyo- Illyro or something like that. My squadron leader introduced me to the merchant’s agent. Apparently, the merchant was in the process of selling off his lands in Braavos.”

“Robb,” Joanna glared, “People do not donate perfectly good manses to strangers, especially not merchants.”

“I never said it was _cheap_ ,” Robb protested, “It cost me all our savings and the coin we had brought.”

_“And?”_

“And I might or might not have taken out a small loan form the Iron Bank,” Robb confessed with a sheepish smile.

* * *

Robb summoned a veritable army of midwives when Joanna’s water broke in the morning. The leader among them was a young woman of exceptional beauty. With light brown skin, raven hair curled into ringlets and a large bosom, she was far too remarkable to be delivering children.

“I’m Belle,” the woman introduced herself as Joanna was carried to one of the unoccupied rooms in their home, “Your lover must leave.”

Robb opened his mouth to protest.

“Go, I’ll be fine.” Joanna assured him. Robb complied begrudgingly and left with a kiss on her forehead. “Of course, you’ll be fine. You are the strongest person I know.”

* * *

By noon, little bundle is pressed into Joanna’s arms. Most children start out with blue eyes, but Joanna hopes that her Alysanne will have Robb’s lovely river blue eyes even when she grows up. It’s too soon to tell, but Joanna hopes that her daughter will have some Stark features even if they can’t give her the Stark name.

But most of all, little Alysanne’s most striking feature is the wisps of silver hair on her head.

“Silver hair? The dragon queen will be most pleased.” Belle said, “An Alysanne with silver hair, fitting no?”

Joanna does not completely register what she said because Robb rushed in. The sheer relief on his face gives way to pure joy when Robb looks at their newborn.

“She looks just like you!” Robb exclaimed.

“Please.” Joanna said tiredly, stifling a yawn, “Aly looks nothing like me.”

“Huh, you may not see it now but I bet she’ll grow up to be a great beauty like her mother, just with different coloring.”

“With silver hair,” Joanna pondered out loud.

Robb shrugged. "Half the Daynes have silver hair. Maybe…”

“As do most Targaryens,” Belle added nonchalantly from beside them. Both Robb and Joanna turn to her in confusion. The midwife smiled like a cat, clearly amused by whatever secret she was implying.

“There are no Targaryens in our ancestry, my lady,” Robb informed Belle but her smirk stayed in place.

“But-“ Belle started to say something but her words were swallowed by the loudest shriek Joanna has ever heard in her life, followed by one more and then another. She looked out the window to see their little garden turn from day to night in an instant.

Then it lands with a tremor. Through the window, Joanna watched as one gigantic, black scaled foot trampled her favorite patch of violet irises beneath it.

**Author's Note:**

> If the plots unclear, here's what I envisioned:
> 
> Illyrio and Daenerys know of Joanna's true parentage, which would make her and her children Daenerys' only heirs. So the magister helps and monitors them from the shadows. Belle is Bellegere, a courtesan with Targaryen blood and one of Illyrio's agents. Ned Stark doesn't accept the position as Hand due to Bran being very young and stays north. When war breaks out, he supports Stannis.


End file.
